WWE Presents: Aladdin!
by Ace of Hearts
Summary: After the stunning failure of the XFL, Vince McMahon has decided to come back with yet another harebrained scheme to expand his empire...by forcing a select "elite" of his wrestlers to stage an epic live-action remake of Disney's Aladdin!
1. The Big Premiere

"Ow, watch where you're going..."   
"Hey, you mind getting a room or something? This isn't the backseat of your car, ya know...!"   
"Ew! Jeffrey Nero Hardy, you just smeared your disgusting body paint all over my brand-new peasant blouse!"   
"Ey, that guy at the counter ripped me off, see; this is _so_ not Extra Extra Jumbo Humongous Size© popcorn at all...!"   
"Let's put a hit on him, Bull..." 

And thus we open the scene with a random bunch of WWE Superstars squeezing and shoving their way down the aisle of a darkened movie theater to attend the premiere of one in a long list of Vince McMahon's half-baked brain...er, children. Molly Holly glared at Jeff Hardy in the dark, before flipping back her hair and sidestepping the ex-WWE wild child, sniffing haughtily, "You're worse than a dog when it comes to number of showers per week, Jeffrey Nero Hardy!" Jeff made faces at her behind her back, while behind the two the FBI marched on with Chuck Palumbo and Johnny Stamboli carrying between them a massive tub of Extra Extra Jumbo Humongous Size© popcorn.   
"Will everybody just sit down," Ivory ordered impatiently as the massive movie screen in front of them began to light up with the opening credits. The WWE Superstars obediently got into their seats and tried their best to shut up, as the movie began and somewhere in the background Steve Austin harassed the beer vendor. 

An important, official-sounding voice-over began to announce grandly as random images filled up the screen, "Vince McMahon presents a thought-provoking Vince McMahon Productions Film by Vince McMahon, a Vince McMahon epic directed and produced by Vince McMahon, starring actors selected specially by Vince McMahon, to bring to life this Vince McMahon major motion picture about a Disney film that Vince McMahon ripped off to line the wallet of Vince McMahon!"   
"Yeah, we kind of get the picture there, buddy," Test remarked dryly, while beside him Stacy Keibler's eyes started to cross as she tried to keep up with all the times the voice-over had uttered Vince McMahon's name. Meanwhile, back on the movie screen, the voice-over guy resumed to babble, as a picture of the back of some random guy's head filled up the screen.   
"This Vince McMahon film, courtesy of Vince McMahon's World Wrestling Entertainment, is a live-action retelling of Disney's classic _Aladdin,"_ he began, as the cameras zoomed in closer on the back of the guy's head on the movie screen.   
"Uh...is that Aladdin?" Scott Steiner frowned, squinting and reaching into his jacket pocket to pull on some reading glasses that made him look ten times smarter than he probably was ever going to be.   
_"Yes, _that's Aladdin, for all of you wondering," the voice-over snapped testily, then cleared his throat. "Now, let's move on, shall we?" 

The cameras finally stopped poking their lenses into the back of "Aladdin's" head, instead zooming over to focus on a much more familiar redhead fighting off the various wardrobe personnel trying to shove her into an off-the-shoulder halter top and harem pants.   
"This Vince McMahon-produced epic retelling of _Aladdin_ stars WWE diva Lita as Princess Jasmine!" the voice-over declared grandly, as back onscreen footage of Lita fighting off the evil wardrobe ladies continued to roll.   
"I am _not_ going to be caught dead wearing poofy pants!" Lita declared fiercely, then whined, "Ow, watch the neck!" as somebody tried to slap a tiara on top of her head. Molly sighed while Ivory smacked her forehead in embarrassment, and Chavo Guerrero, trying to find the silver lining, muttered while shrugging his shoulders, "Oh, well, at least it's not as if Vince cast his daughter as Jasmine--yikes, can you imagine Stephanie hitting those high notes in "A Whole New World?" And he shuddered. Hulk Hogan, sitting beside him, turned around and clapped a heavy hand on the smaller man, questioning, "Are you really sure you're that grateful about the redhead being Jasmine, brother? Last time I knew, she didn't exactly have the greatest set of pipes around either, if you catch my drift." At that, some guy sitting in front of the two whipped around angrily, snapping, "Hey! How dare you dis my wrestling goddess, my idol, the center of my universe, the only reason I get up in the morning, you hulking, bald-headed old has-been?!"   
"Heh, he's been taking some lessons from Jericho," Al Snow smirked, while Hogan lifted his eyebrows at the young man and demanded, "And who are you, tiny?" The guy proudly puffed out his chest.   
"I," he declared, "am Gerrod Capps, and I'm proud to declare that I'm the founder and chairman of the Litaholics Anonymous Association!" Victoria frowned and scrutinized him, her eyes narrowing critically as she spoke, "Hey, you don't work for the WWE, kid, so what are you doing here at this company-only premiere?" Gerrod shrugged.   
"Oh, I just painted myself all-blue and snuck in as Big Show's left leg--stupid Security never even noticed the difference, probably just thought Show had gained more weight," he snickered. 

"Ahem!" The voice-over sounded annoyed now, as he worked to direct the audience's attention back to the action onscreen. "If you can all stop worrying about that Jared kid, we can all meet the rest of our all-star cast for Vince McMahon's production of _Aladdin!"_ Offscreen Edge rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath, "Oh, goody. Can't wait to see which suckers you've got playing the rest of the cast!" The picture of Lita trying to moonsault her way out of the swarm of evil wardrobe ladies blurred and faded, to be replaced by some new footage.   
"Filling in for Jafar we've got none other than...Sean O'Haire!" the voice-over announced grandly, cutting away to Sean standing around calmly as some more evil wardrobe ladies lowered a tacky-looking wine-colored robe over his gray pinstripe suit and tie.   
"You want to shell out ten bucks to watch this crapfest of a movie," Sean said calmly as the wardrobe ladies fussed over him. "And just remember--I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." He smirked, but the evil, diabolical effect of his facial expression was pretty much canceled when Sean slightly dipped his head to stroke his goatee, and the stiff black turban promptly fell off his head.   
"Anyway," the voice-over rushed on, "filling in the important shoes of Iago, the annoying, shrill-voiced parrot that everybody would like to see squished into a feathery pancake, is none other than...Chris Jericho!" Jericho was pushed into the view of the camera, decked out in all his feathery glory and looking like a freaky red version of Big Bird.   
"I don't want to be the stupid bird!" Jericho was squawking angrily to whomever would listen. "I have more dignity than that! I have more pride than that! My hair and my voice are much too pretty to be wasted on such an insignificant role! I am the true star, not that idiot who's playing Aladdin! I demand more justice--" Tommy Dreamer turned to Spike Dudley and asked, "Uh, by the way, do you know who exactly is playing Aladdin?" Spike shrugged.   
"No idea," he replied, while onscreen the image shifted to a clueless-looking Brian "Spanky" Kendrick in a monkey suit.   
"Aw, and what do we have here?" the voice-over cooed. "Why, it's Brian Kendrick of course, otherwise known as Spanky, the lucky actor who'll be playing Aladdin's faithful furry four-legged friend, Abu!"   
"Um...eeh-eeh?" Spanky shrugged helplessly, then froze when a voice drifted over to holler, "Oh, Span-ky! Time for your flea shots administered in the butt!"   
"What?!" Spanky squeaked, turning white at the thought of giant hypodermic needles poking him in the posterior.   
"And don't forget, at five o' clock it's time for your furball medicine!" the same insanely cheerful voice reminded him, causing the hapless little cruiserweight to keel over and faint.   
"Uh...moving on," the voice-over muttered quickly. "You'll never guess who'll be playing Jasmine's father the sultan!" Billy Kidman sighed, rolling his eyes and muttering sarcastically, "Gee, do try us."   
"Why, it's none other than your Olympic hero and mine, Kurt Angle, it's true, it's true!" the voice-over boomed, as Kurt was shoved in front of the camera.   
"What's going on?" the gold-medalist whimpered, then gagged and made a muffled choking noise as a massive feathered white turban was thrown into his face.   
"Oh, and here we have our Magic Carpet!" the voice-over chattered, while the cameras panned the room until a cowering Christian came into view.   
"I can't move," the blonde Canadian whined, struggling to worm free of all the purple thread that had been wound and tangled around him as part of his costume.   
"Well, I guess we're all ready now, having introduced the entire cast for Vince McMahon's epic restaging of _Aladdin!"_ the voice-over cheered. "Oh, except for the genie. Ah, yeah, you'll meet him later on. Until then, enjoy the show!" 

The WWE Superstars leaned back in their seats, dumbfounded as Chris Jericho and Stephanie McMahon's screeched duet of "Arabian Nights" painfully blared out of the theater speakers. Jeff was the first one to react, as he shook his head and muttered, "Boy am I glared now that Vince kicked me out of the WWE so that I didn't have to act in this atrocity." Molly sniffed, sticking her nose into the air and declaring, "And I'm glad that Vince doesn't think I'm hot enough to fill anything short of a maternity dress, let alone Jasmine's midriff-revealing outfit, so that _I_ didn't have to act in this atrocity!"   
"Ey, we're going out to put a hit on that counter boy who ripped us off on the popcorn, see," Nunzio spoke up in his Al Capone voice.   
"Hey, I just realized something," Stacy spoke up, as all eyes turned to her. "If Chris is supposed to be a parrot, then how come he's allowed to speak?" 

* * *

*Coming up next, the first scene of Vince McMahon's epic live-action version of _Aladdin,_ plus the identities of who will be playing the roles of Aladdin and the genie (no, seriously, any ideas here, people, 'cause I still can't figure out who'll play Al and the blue dude!)* 


	2. Scene One: A Dark Man With A Dark Purpos...

We cut to a vast desert, as Jericho and Stephanie's painful duet of "Arabian Nights" continues to blare, and Nunzio as the peddler comes into view, riding across the sand dunes on a...*drumroll* gondola! Never mind that it's a desert, as Nunzio grandly made his way across the desert, stopping only when his gondola sprang a leak and filled up with sand, forcing the artist...er, wrestler formerly known as Little Guido to hop on out and salvage his retail stand, which he plopped onto the nearest sand dune.   
"Eh, good evening, see," Nunzio spouted in his Al Capone voice. "Please, please, come closer!" The camera zoomed in way too close, decking Nunzio squarely in the forehead and sending him flying several feet backwards into the dune. There was a muffled but still audible stream of cursing in Italian, as the FBI leader gingerly dug his way out, spitting sand and insults at the cameraman.   
"You overfed, simplistic idiot--uh, I mean, too close, a little too close, see!" he quickly salvaged his line, and the camera obediently backed away, allowing Nunzio to pat the turban that Wardrobe had glued on top of his head, before spreading his arms about him in a grand gesture.   
"Welcome to AhWWEbah, see, city of big hulking men and one hundred percent saline women, see...and that whole mystery and enchantment crap, see," he announced. "And, oh yeah, me and my boys just put some random people in th' riv'r, see, cause da body floats away, no fuss no muss, see, which means we get to pawn all their valuables." Nunzio took out a Mr. Coffee machine, scowled, and gestured with his hands while huffing, "What is this?! What kind of cheap victims did the Bull and Palumbo whack, anyway?" He quickly threw the coffee maker away, then dug out a set of...Tupperware.   
"Eh...this Tupperware is very good, see," he tee-heed nervously. "Holds good fettuccini alfredo without melting, see. Ugh, the lines they give me!" 

The camera began to pan to the right, causing Nunzio's eyes to widen before he struggled to catch up.   
"Wait! Wait! You have to let me finish my lines!" he whined, causing the camera to stop. Nunzio darted nervous glances back and forth, before quickly rushing through the rest of his lines, "There's this lamp, see, and this young man, see, and this whole diamond in the rough business, see, and I'll just have to tell you the story whether you like it or not, see, and where's the sand...?" While he'd been speaking, Nunzio had pulled out a cheap, shoddy-looking lamp painted a garish gold color, from which he poured an array of sparkling Pixie Dust and then attempted to throw into the sky.   
"Gahck!" Sounds of the cameraman choking and coughing could be heard, while Nunzio scowled and the screen hurriedly faded to change scenes. 

* * *

Since Nunzio forgot to mention it, let's just get this out of the way: Ahem! Ahem! Okay, so, once upon a time, in a land far, faaaaar away (known as AhWWEbah--hey, you try coming up with a better name!), there was a dark man waiting, with a dark purpose, on a dark night, riding a dark horse, and just for the hell of it, he had dark hair and his parrot, despite being a showy shade of red, also looked real dark because of the dark lighting from the dark night sky. Sean O'Haire, the aforementioned dark man, was waiting impatiently in the darkness, stroking his goatee in that evil villainy way while a sulky Chris Jericho, stuffed into a hideous parrot costume that made him look more like Big Bird than Iago, tried to clamber onto O'Haire's shoulder. 

At that moment, Eddie Guerrero came riding toward the pair on his big, brown ass (sorry, couldn't resist that--I mean donkey!), looking very un-Arabian in his humongous straw sombrero and fake, bushy black mustache. O'Haire gave Eddie the evil eye, before grunting in a low, testy voice, "You are late...Sancho Eddie!" Before "Sancho Eddie" could speak, O'Haire turned to someone behind the cameras--presumably the directors--and complained, "Really, what kind of Arabian name is Sancho Eddie? For that matter, what kind of stereotypical portrayal of Latinos is the adding of "Sancho" to Mr. Guerrero's name--"   
"Shut up and go back to reading your lines, you devil's advocate wannabe!" the grumpy voice of Vince McMahon could be heard snapping. O'Haire rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Hey, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know," while Sancho Eddie apologized half-heartedly, "Well, a thousand apologies and all that crap, esse!" O'Haire cleared his voice, before resuming his Jafar persona and growling in his deep, ominous voice, "You have it, then?" Eddie nodded and reached into a tattered gray pouch by his belt, starting to dig through its leathery interior while rushing through his lines, _"Sí, _of course, I had to sit on a few goats--I mean, slit a few throats--to get it, homes, and...ah hah! Here it is!" And he triumphantly pulled out a half-eaten burrito. O'Haire blinked incredulous eyes at the El Paso native, and Eddie managed a sheepish half-smile as he mumbled, "Or maybe not," and resumed digging.   
"There it is!" A spare sombrero emerged, only to be tossed aside with a grunt of, "Or maybe not!" Random odds and ends started flying, including a stolen Rolex, a tattered copy of El Play-esse, and a guitar painted over with the Mexican flag.   
"What a pack rat," O'Haire grumbled while Eddie was still searching, before finally emerging triumphantly with one half of a scarab medallion.   
"Yes, here it is, esse!" Eddie shouted excitedly, waving the beetle back and forth. O'Haire reached out to snatch it, but Eddie promptly drew his hand back while wagging the wrong finger naggingly at the taller man.   
"Ah ah ah," he scolded, as from behind the cameras Stephanie's distinct voice could be heard screeching, "That's not an appropriate gesture for a children's movie!" while Stone Cold's voice hollered drunkenly, "Oh, hell yeah!"   
"Oops." Eddie, after finally realizing his mistake, quickly retracted his hand, before coughing and mumbling his next line of, _"El tesoro,_ homes! Ur, the treasure, I mean." 

A long, embarrassingly obvious silence followed, during which both O'Haire and Sancho Eddie waited expectantly, before the former finally hissed irritatingly, "Jericho, it's your line!"   
"I am _not_ squawking!" an indignant voice sulked, as the cameras panned to a shot of Big Bird Jericho, squatting rather unattractively on a small piece of lumber hoisted up to match O'Haire's height so that it looked as though the Canadian were sitting on his shoulder like a good little parrot ought to be. As O'Haire tapped his foot impatiently and Eddie drifted into a horribly off-key rendition of some song about his Llorona, Vince McMahon's voice could be heard yelling off-camera, "Jericho, play your damn part or else...YOU'RE FIRED!!!" Jericho sighed, before grumpily squawking shrilly, "AWK!" as he dove off O'Haire's shoulder to steal the medallion, and promptly wound up bowling Eddie over right as Mr. Latino Heat was crooning out the chorus.   
"Ack! _El pajarito_ needs to loose weight, no? Getting a little _gordito_ there, esse," Eddie piped up in a muffled voice, while Jericho wrestled the medallion from his hand and snapped humorlessly, "Oh, shut up, you ex-mullet man!"   
"Ahem!" O'Haire pointedly cleared his throat as Jericho dropped the medallion into his outstretched hand with the obligatory flaps of his wings, trying to direct the attention back to himself as he raised both halves of the scarab medallion and dramatically connected them together...and nothing happened. Silence. Crickets chirped. Eddie resumed singing about his Llorona.   
"Awk! Maybe I should go yell at the technicians!" Jericho shrilled, beginning to flounce off, wing feathers swaying back and forth. Only then did the dramatic explosion go off, nearly singing Jericho's bright red, feathery tail right off while he let out a startled squawk as red and gold pyros shot up all around the terrified Canadian.   
"Awk! Mommy!" Jericho wailed, while O'Haire tried to save the scene by booming in an overly dramatic voice, "Quick! Follow the yellow road that will take us to the Wizard of AhWWEbah!" 

O'Haire took off on his stallion, with Sancho Eddie huffing and puffing behind on his ass (remember, that means donkey!). Jericho was left coughing in the sand, plucking at the plumes on top of his head and whining screechingly, "Hey, wait for Big Bird!" as he hopped off after the two. The Canadian human parrot didn't have to run for two long, as O'Haire and Eddie skidded abruptly to a halt, causing him to run face-first into the latter's ass.   
"Oh, pee yew," Jericho groaned to himself, while in front of him O'Haire and Eddie were watching with melodramatic wonder as a massive black cave in the shape of a lion's head rose out of the sand. Its mouth opened wide following a roar, and then all was silent once again.   
"At last," O'Haire breathed melodramatically, "after all my years of searching, it's the--"   
"Awk, Cave of Wonders! Awk, Cave of Wonders! Awk!" Jericho butted in, squawking shrilly while adjusting his plastic beak, which had crumpled when he'd run into Eddie's ass. O'Haire glared at the parrot, grumbling, "Shut up and stop stealing my lines, you limelight hogging chicken, or I'll have you neutered!"   
"Awk! Eep! I'll be quiet now," Jericho squeaked, forcing himself to shut up and amuse himself with things other than how marvelous his own voice sounded. O'Haire cleared his throat, then picked up Eddie by his pants and shoved him toward the cave, shouting after the Latino man, "Now remember, Sancho Eddie, bring me the lamp! The rest of the treasure is yours, but the lamp is mine! And remember, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know!" 

Eddie tentatively took a few steps into the cavern, but stopped abruptly when said cavern began to speak.   
"Aw, dude, this isn't cool," RVD's laid-back, relaxed voice spoke up from the PA system wired into the cave, adding, "I mean, everything's cool when you're Rob...Van...Dam! But you're not Rob...Van...Dam! Dude, just who are you, anyway?" Eddie rolled his eyes while the Michigan native did his whole thumb-pointing spiel, then muttered while proudly puffing out his chest, "It is I, Eduardo Guerrero...otherwise known in this cheap summer flick as Sancho Eddie!"   
"Edua-what-what?" the RVD-cavern tried to pronounce Eddie's name, and wound up hopelessly butchering it. "Aw, dude, sorry man, but I can't let anybody in here whose name I can't pronounce!"   
"That's racism!" Jericho squawked shrilly from his perch. "We're gonna sue the pants off you--that is, if you were wearing, or could ever hope to wear, pants, Mr. Talking Cave Person!"   
"Dude, only the diamonds are a girl's best friend--urk, I mean, only the diamond in the rough can enter...and Jericho, I'm not wearing any pants anyway, so chill out," RVD reminded him cheerfully, veering away from his few lines in the script. Jericho got a weird look on his face, like he'd just bitten into a pair of dirty old gym socks stuffed with Victoria's special spicy black pepper enchilada sauce, then shuddered and grumbled to himself, "Eh, don't want to get _that_ mental picture! Awk!" 

Eddie, meanwhile, had turned to look questioningly in O'Haire's direction, who scowled and nagged, "What are you waiting for? Go on--and remember, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know!" Eddie shrugged, then decided he might as well step inside to get the other man to shut up and stop spouting his one and only catchphrase. Reluctantly, he took an additional step into the RVD-cavern...and nothing happened. A dramatic silence followed, during which Eddie heaved a sigh of relief...and then RVD's voice could be heard hollering at a frightfully loud volume, "YEOWCH! MY BUTT!" while Stephanie's voice off-camera gloated knowingly, "See, told you it's the only way to get Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected to roar out like that!" Meanwhile, the lion's head cavern had begun to explode and collapse, with Eddie inside wailing and screeching without the incentive of being pricked in the butt like RVD had, but the lion's mouth snapped shut before he could get out, and the entire cavern collapsed.   
"Ow, it's starting to turn purple, dude..." RVD's voice whined about his bruised behind, then added carelessly, "Oh, yeah, and seek out this Diamond Dave--uh, I mean, diamond in the rough!" 

* * *

The first few lights of dawn began to appear, turning the dark desert into a pale shade of gray as Jericho dug himself out from the sand, spitting feathers and yanking at the tail of his costume to adjust it. The blonde Canadian caught his reflection in a conveniently nearby oasis lake, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw how disheveled he looked.   
"Awk! I look like a mess!" Jericho croaked. "Worse than Sable before her weekly Botox shots!" Turning around, he cupped his hands around the plastic beak hanging over his mouth and hollered, "Wardrobe! Makeup!" A disoriented O'Haire, meanwhile, was babbling mindlessly to a stoic palm tree, "Patience, Jericho, patience...Sancho Eddie was obviously not worthy...by the way, don't you think the Cave of Wonders sounded rather stoned?...hmm, you know, Eddie was right, you _do_ seem to be gaining weight there, Jericho--I mean, look at your torso, it's so thick and flabby...say, did you know your skin's drying up pretty badly there?...and your hair, yikes, it looks worse than Cher's on a bad hair day...why is it green, anyway?...oh, and just remember: I'm not telling you anything you don't already know..." 

From off-camera, Vince McMahon's angry voice boomed through a bullhorn, "Stick to the script! Read your lines! Do your job! YOU'RE FIRED...if you don't start acting immediately!" The two wrestlers turned "actors" ignored their angry director/boss, as Jericho happily settled back to get dolled up by the wardrobe and makeup departments supervised by Rico, while the disoriented O'Haire continued to spout out his lines to the palm tree.   
"Yes, yes," O'Haire was saying, "we must find this Jack of Diamonds--I mean, diamond in the rough!" 

* * *

*Coming up next: Aladdin makes his grand entrance! Plus, the debut of Spanky, fresh off his furball medicine intake and his flea shots administered to the butt, as Abu the monkey! Plus, the three palace guards, Nathan Jones, Charlie Haas, and Shelton Benjamin (get it? Kurt Angle's the sultan, and Haas and Benjamin are Team Angle?), land in a pile of Skittle Jeff's Discount Body Paint!* 


	3. Scene Two: There Are A Lot Of Men Chasin...

We return from the gray desert to the bright streets of AhWWEbah, where a male figure with distinct green hair is rooftop-hopping around like a maniac, three larger, hulking men in palace guard uniforms following closely on his heels.   
"Somebody call the police!" the largest of the three hulking palace guards, Nathan Jones, hollered in all his Australian-accented glory after the green-haired man. "That green-haired freak just stole my lunch! I want at least my Pokémon toy returned to me--all I need is a Jigglypuff to complete my collection!" Beside Nathan, Charlie Haas paused abruptly to examine his reflection critically in a handy nearby mirror, murmuring thoughtfully, "I don't know about this whole turban thing--it's totally ruining my perfect blonde all-American hair!" Meanwhile, back to the green-haired man, whom we've all figured out by now is none other than Shane Helms, glanced back at the palace guards shrieking and waving their swords at him, then to the little red-and-yellow package clutched in his hand, and shook his head, grumbling, "Holy incredulity--all this trouble for a McDonald's Happy Meal?!"   
"It's the principle of the thing!" Shelton Benjamin yelled back at him, proudly showing off his palace guard badge.   
"And my iddle widdle Jigglypuff toy!" Nathan sniffed.   
"We'd let you off easy if you just pay us the money, you know!" Charlie called after him.   
"And give me back my Pokémon toy!" Nathan yelled.   
"Yeah, that too," Charlie added, rolling his eyes, albeit discreetly lest he risk getting pounded to a bloody pulp by the behemoth of a palace guard. Shane glanced back at the hulking guards in hot pursuit, then sighed while grumbling, "The Flash never had to pay for _his_ lunch!" before tossing back his head heroically and whooshing down the building with a battle cry of, "Stand back! There's a Hurricane comin' through!" 

Down below on the streets, Zack Gowan sighed and grumbled through his lines after a forceful push from Stephanie, "Look, uh, mommy! It's a bird!" Beside him, Hulk Hogan in drag bowed his head in embarrassment as he growled, "No, honey! It's a plane!" La Resistancé popped up from nowhere to chastise, "Idiotic Americans, there _were_ no airplanes in this era!" leading to a glare from Hogan and a prompt threat of, "If my yellow-and-red pantyhose weren't bunching up so badly, I'd take my foot and shove it up both your snotty French asses, brothers!" Cueing back to Shane, the superheroic green-haired Aladdin was now flying through the air, getting tangled on a bunch of ropes with clothes drying on them and collecting a random assortment of outfits as he dropped down. Shane finally landed on the street, causing a cloud of dust to fly up around him, then leapt triumphantly from the pile of clothes to catch his stolen Happy Meal and brag, "Holy landing!" before finally realizing that he was now decked out in a psychedelic magenta moo-moo with a massive electric pink bra looped around the outside and a pair of polka-dotted boxer shorts large enough to fit the Big Show tangled on top of his head.   
"Heh heh." Shane turned as red as a tomato, which clashed horribly with his green hair, before quickly ripping through the dress and undergarments and once again striking his superheroic pose.   
"Holy costume change!" he puffed, but before he could gloat any further the three palace guards popped into view atop the building Shane had just jumped off of.   
"There he is! Don't let him get away!" Charlie ordered, as all three began to clamber down and Nathan wailed, "Make him give me back my Jigglypuff!" Shane's eyes widened, and he muttered, "Uh oh," and quickly darted off, about to make his swift escape when he turned and promptly smacked right into the original Man-beast, Nicole Bass.   
"Augh! I'm blind!" Shane gasped in horror, while Nicole started blabbing mindlessly, "Getting into trouble a bit early today, aren't we? Not that I'd expected any different from the likes of you; when will you people learn that the best way to attract cheap publicity is to sue Vince McMahon's ass off instead of running around in Spandex and a cape--" Shane glanced back warily at the guards in hot pursuit, then grumbled, "Get out of my way, you he-she, you're gonna get me into trouble!" 

Just then, Nathan reached him, grabbing his wrist in a painful vise-like grip and snarling menacingly, "There you are, you thief! Give me back my Pokémon toy!"   
"Holy predicament!" Shane squeaked, whining, "I'm in such big trouble." Nathan, meanwhile, was still babbling about his Pokémon toy.   
"And just to let you know, that was a Jigglypuff you've probably just squished with your crazy dive, and I only needed a Jigglypuff to complete my collection, and--" he ranted, before a whine of, "Ow! Quit jabbing me already like you did RVD, I'll do my scene!" interrupted his rambling, and Spanky in a monkey suit dove forward and gave Nathan an atomic wedgie.   
"Er...that wasn't in the original script," Charlie muttered, while Shelton just observed and winced and Stephanie's voice off-camera screeched, "That also isn't appropriate for a children's movie!" Shane, after recovering his senses, turned to the hyperactive blonde who'd just saved him and cried thankfully, "Holy rescues, Citizen Spanky!"   
"Hello!" Spanky cried cheerfully, yanking off his turban and waving it around triumphantly, before he finally remembered that he was supposed to be a monkey and quickly corrected himself, "Uh, I mean, squeak squeak!" Meanwhile, Charlie and Shelton had succeeded in undoing Spanky's wedgie, causing Shane to pale and declare, "Holy chase scene, let's get out of here!" as he took off, Spanky running after him and occasionally tripping over his monkey tail. 

The merry quintet dashed across the streets of AhWWEbah for a while, Spanky tripping over his tail while clutching his butt, still sore from freshly-administered flea shots, Charlie stopping at every mirror to check out his perfect all-American blonde hair and perfect all-American chiseled physique, and Nathan roaring about all the kinds of wedgies he would give "green-boy and the little blonde Duracell bunny." Suddenly, Shane skidded to an abrupt halt at the director's command, listening to the new instructions with a confused frown on his face before he wrinkled his nose and asked incredulously, "You want me to _sing?!_ Holy cow, Citizen, in case you haven't noticed, I'm being chased around here by dangerous behemoths who want to yank my superheroic Batman shorts over my head! I don't exactly have the time or spirit to pull a Mariah Carey act at the same time!" Behind him, Spanky had to yank back desperately on his tail to avoid colliding into Shane's back, but the palace guards weren't quite as lucky, as one by one they all tumbled down following their unexpected stops, and would have rolled into an avalanche if dust held together as well as snow did. Several minutes passed, during which an indignant Shane argued heatedly with Vince and Stephanie about how he was no longer in 3 Count so there was no need for him to dance and sing anymore, and just as Spanky and the guards began to get impatient and started to irritably tap their feet against the ground that Shane finally drew back and harrumphed grumpily, "One jump ahead of the breadline/One swing ahead of the sword/I steal only what I can't afford/That's everything...Hey! Holy propaganda! I'm a superhero, I don't steal!" 

After several bellowing threats from Vince to fire him, Shane began to reluctantly sing out his lines, a bit off-key, as he and Spanky dashed around, crashing with just about everybody they could while Nathan and Team Angle had a fine time trying to figure out how to still remain several feet behind the dysfunctional duo and yet still retain their credibility (not that the "Wonder" from Down Under ever had any to begin with!). Meanwhile, as Spanky turned around to blow a raspberry at the bumbling guards, Shane reached over and gave Nathan his second atomic wedgie, while the Aussie huffed and roared, "What's with this morbid fascination with my drawers today?!" Shane sheepishly scratched the back of his head, admitting, "Sorry, guess I got a bit carried a way there, Mister--but that was actually in the script!" Charlie rolled his eyes in exasperation, butting it, "It says here to pantse him, not wedgie him!" while Nathan beside him started to look nervous and waved around for him to shut up. Shane brightened.   
"Really? Whoops then, my bad--here, I'll fix it." And he reached over and yanked Nathan's pants down until they rolled around his ankles.   
"Aw! Are those little smiley-face hearts on his boxers?" a passing Nidia cooed, while RVD popped out of nowhere to frown and chip in his two cents, "Oh, dude, that's _so_ not cool at all!"   
"You riff raff! Get him! Slit his neck! Re-dye his hair black! Force him to watch one of Hogan's old movies!" Nathan roared in an effort to get his dignity back, as he quickly reached around and yanked on the nearest substitute for his pants--which just happened to conveniently be a giant, smelly fish. Shelton and Charlie stopped flexing and checking their hair, as they picked up their swords and muttered, "Uh, right!" while restarting Shane's chase scene, with Nathan awkwardly hobbling after them in his fish-pants. 

"...And this is why I only use Swiss Army Brand Razors to get my legs as sleek and smooth as they are..." Stacy was babbling to a crowd of highly interested males, hiking up her skirt to show off her legs as the men crowded closer for better ogling, when Shane and Spanky went whooshing by. Spanky then paused, before leaning in and swiping Stacy's shaving razor and whipping it around ferociously as the three guards came tripping along.   
"Eek! He's got a tiny little sword-thingie!" Team Angle gave high-pitched girlie squeals, before ducking to hide behind Nathan's enormous muscled form. Nathan scowled, snapping as he whipped out his massive broadsword, nearly cutting off the belt of his pants during the process and narrowly escaping a second pantsing in ten minutes, "You idiots! We've all got swords!" Team Angle exchanged guilty looks, before tee-heeing nervously, "Oh, yeah, oops," as they jumped back out from behind Nathan and whipped out their own swords.   
"Yeah! We've also got swords!" Shelton puffed with pride, while Charlie added cockily, "And they're way bigger than yours, too!" Spanky smirked.   
"And we all know about men who seem to feel that bigger is better when it comes to their property," he taunted, then eeped when Team Angle, in a fury, took a swipe and nearly cut his tail off. "Um, I mean, squeak squeak, chirp chirp, hee hee...gotta go!" And the little blonde monkey dropped Stacy's shaving razor and took off after Shane, who'd somehow wound up on yet another rooftop.   
"Here goes, better throw my hand in/Wish me happy landin'/All I gotta do is jump!" Shane was singing, still off-key, and Spanky managed to latch on just as the green-haired superhero managed to work his cape off and used it as a magic carpet to sky dive off the roof. The palace guards, naturally, being the bumbling buffoons that they were portraying, jumped off after Shane without a second thought, and were promptly rewarded by landing into a massive pile of Skittle Jeff's Discount Body Paint. 

Unfortunately, the added weight of Spanky, who, despite being a little cruiserweight was still far heavier than a monkey, also pulled Shane's cape astray, and when he tried to use it as a parachute to slow his fall, it wound up veering way off course from the added weight, dumping both Shane and Spanky into Bubba & D-Von's Discount Wood (Not THAT Kind Of Wood, You Perverts!) pile right next to Jeff's paint pile. Shane huffed angrily, sniping, "Way to go, Citizen Spanky! I'm shipping you off to Jenny Craig's after this scene!" Spanky groaned, spitting out some sawdust while grumbling, "Look who's talking, King Kong Bundy!" Shane gasped.   
"I am _not_ fat!" he cried. _"You're_ the fat one, look at how wide your face is!"   
"At least _I'm _not the one with the goofy green hair!" Spanky shot back.   
"No, _you're_ just the talking monkey," Shane gritted out pointedly.   
"Grr! Fine, then! Squeak squeak!" Spanky shrilled. 

The two were so busy squabbling, that they failed to notice the two orphan "children" rummaging around a nearby trash can for food until Stephanie's ear-splitting screech of, "Pay attention, you two!" brought them painfully back to Earth. Hunching by the trash can and dressed in gray tatters but somehow still managing to look slutty, Terri paused while holding up a fish bone in disgust as she sighed and complained, "How come we always have to play the children, just because we're the shortest on the roster?!" Beside her, Spike Dudley agreed, "Yeah, that's height-ism!" One warning glare from Stephanie and Vince quickly convinced them to shut up and start looking pathetic, while Shane tried to get back into character and announced melodramatically, "Holy tragedies, Spanky! Homeless orphans! Quick, let's give them our hard-won Happy Meal that took two wedgies and one pantsing to acquire!" Spanky shrugged, still examining his physique critically for any signs of flab before frowning and tossing the little red-and-yellow box over to the two "children."   
"Sure, whatever--so long as I get the Pokémon toy," he said casually, instantly causing Shane to whip around and glare.   
"Hey! Who said anything about _you_ getting the Pokémon toy? _I_ want it!" he whined, stamping his feet against the dusty ground.   
"I get it because I called it first!" Spanky huffed.   
"I get it because I'm taller, and you're a monkey, so shut up!" Shane retorted, drawing himself to his full height and standing on tiptoes for added effect.   
"Hey, no fair! That's height-ism!" Spanky whined, as Terri and Spike added, "See, told ya!" 

At that moment, a trumpet fanfare broke up any further arguments, and Shane reacted immediately by yelping, "Holy entrances! That must be Superman! Either him or Sailor Moon, anyway!" and dashing forward to get a peek, Spanky following reluctantly. The crowds in the street, meanwhile, had parted, to allow the ever arrogant Mr. Mattitude himself, Matt Hardy (version one!) to pass, riding on a horse. Or maybe...   
"Ow! Quit bumping into me there, Crash!" Shannon's muffled voice complained from inside the heavy horse costume.   
"Well quit sticking your butt into my face and I'll stop bumping into you!" Crash whined in a high-pitched shrill, adding, "I don't get it, why do _I_ have to be the rear of the horse, anyway?"   
"Cause you're shorter than me," Shannon replied simply, while Spanky, Terri, and Spike piped up, "Hey! That's height-ism!" Matt glanced down sharply as his "horse" began to wiggle and tussle, and he wasted no time in bringing a riding crop down to the flank of the mount and preach, "Don't turn on each other, that's not the Mattitude way! Besides, only _I'm _allowed to beat up lackeys!" The "horse" immediately behaved.   
"Yes, Master," Shannon and Crash intoned in a hypnotized, brainwashed way. Meanwhile, among the bystanders, we hear John Cena rap, "Yo yo yo/Prince Matt, he be da loser chump/Who's goin' to da royal palace to get by da princess dumped!" Beside him, Randy Orton, after finally deciphering his words, sighed while rolling his eyes, "That's real lame, Cena."   
"Your lines!" Stephanie hissed from off-camera, and Randy hastened to add, "And, uh, yeah, I guess he's another suitor for Princess Jasmine--I mean, Princess Yasmine--I mean, Princess Pamela--I mean, Princess Carmen, I mean--wait, what's her name again?"   
"LITA!!!" about a gazillion voices shouted in unison, both from off-camera and from the set, as Randy winced and covered his ears, mumbling sheepishly, "Yeah, that's her name. Princess, um, Lita." 

Suddenly, a breeze picked up while Terri was busy re-bleaching her hair, taking the little bottle of dye and twirling it around and around in the air toward Prince Matt. Terri darted out into the streets following it, wailing, "My bleach! Now I'll look like a non-blonde skank!" while Spike hastened to totter after her when somebody gave him a forceful push in the tiny blonde's direction. The two "orphaned children" just happened to stumble right into Prince Matt's path, and Shannon, after giving the obliged, "Neigh! Neigh!" attempted to rear up. Only problem was, Crash behind him had no idea what was going on, and Shannon's sudden movement promptly caused Prince Matt's "horse" to tear into two, Shannon in the upper half still running around pretending to neigh, Crash stuck in the rear end tottering dizzily, and Matt being dumped rather unceremoniously onto his butt, wondering how this could have happened when all his mattamatical equations had assured him of a safe ride to the palace.   
"You obtuse simpletons!" Matt hollered at Spike and Terri, impressing everyone with his use of big words. "Come, my MF'rs! Kill them!"   
"Uh...isn't that a bit extreme? I mean, what are we in, the Dark Ages?" Shannon ventured. At that particular comment, everybody turned around to give him a _Duh!_ look, and Shannon shrugged and mumbled, "Kay, you're the boss." 

The two very evil MF'rs were about to wring Terri and Spike's little collective necks for upsetting their Mattitude leader, when Shane and Spanky superheroically whooshed in for the save, with Shane crying out, "Holy injustice, Citizens!" He of the mighty green hair dove bravely toward Shannon, Matt, and Crash, but the three Mattituders simply stepped out of the way, and Shane wound up flying right into a muddy ditch, as everywhere around him people began laughing at his pathetic superheroing skills...including Spanky.   
"Some loyal sidekick _you_ are--I never should have ditched Mighty Molly," Shane grumbled, as Shannon and Crash pushed him out of the way and led Prince Matt to the royal palace where he could court Princess Lita. 

* * *

*Coming up next: Lita and Rajah make their grand debuts, Kurt gets to shove crackers up Jericho's big mouth to make him shut up, plus, Prince Matt gets the rear of his pants bitten off!* 


	4. Scene Three: She Is Sixteen, Going On Se...

The day after Prince Matt's triumphant arrival at AhWWEbah (hey, stop laughing at the name already!), Sultan Kurt was shown standing inside a massive chamber of his palace, diligently polishing his precious gold medals. Suddenly, the double doors were slammed wide open, as three figures toppled inside, one on top of the other, the prince distinctively at the bottom of the pile complaining about his back and spine, Shannon and Crash lying around dizzily, bits and pieces of their stallion costumes still clinging to them here and there. Sultan Kurt glanced up and huffed in annoyance at having his quality time with his medals interrupted, before a prod from Vince and Stephanie sent him tottering rapidly over to the royal crew that had gotten dumped rather unceremoniously in front of his doors.   
"Uh, leaving so soon, Prince Jeff?" he asked nervously, adjusting his turban before it flopped off his bald head from his running. Matt groaned, heaving with some effort his MF'rs/lackeys off his back while grumpily correcting the Olympic sultan of AhWWEbah, "It's Matt--Jeff's the one with the glow-in-the-dark body paint slathered all over his arms and face, remember? And I've never been so insulted before in my life, by the way! Not that I'm actually old enough to have been insulted a lot, of course, hem, hem! I'm only twenty...er, five!" His words were swift to zip in one ear and dart right out the other, after having stopped in the empty space between to dance around to the tune of the Olympics theme music, as Sultan Kurt wistfully daydreamed of his old glory days when his eyes suddenly caught sight of a rather unsightly tear straight down the butt of Prince Matt's royal baggy cargo pants.   
"Eh heh, Prince Matt, about your pants...you didn't expect to court my, uh, _daughter_ looking like that, did you?" he spoke up pointedly, then stuck his lower lip way out in a pout as he grumbled, "How did I get so old? If Lita really _were_ my daughter, that means I'd have impregnated her mother when I was, like, seven! Come on, couldn't you have gotten, like, Ric Flair to play the sultan?" Flair, looking more harried than any man in his fifties ever ought to look and with a measuring tape wrapped around his neck and several colorful strands of thread tangled in his hair, popped into view to pant and complain, "Hey, at least you've _got_ a part--they didn't make _you_ Rico's assistant in the Wardrobe & Makeup department!" As Sultan Kurt made weird faces at this, Prince Matt impatiently broke in while gathering up the scattered halves of his "horse"--if one could even call Shannon and Crash's pitiful imitation that--"Ahem! As I was saying, I've never been so insulted in my life, and good luck marrying _her_ off...which reminds me, I'll need to confirm her phone number with Vince to make sure she didn't just give me the number to the Viagra company or whatever. Now come on, my loyal Mattitude followers--er, horsie."   
"Neigh, neigh," Shannon and Crash echoed obediently, trying to hastily scramble back into position but assembling themselves the wrong way so that now the horse's butt was where its face ought to be.   
"Oh, forget it! I'll just walk home!" Matt huffed impatiently, stalking away with his faithful MF'ing sidekicks tottering after him. 

Sultan Kurt, meanwhile, squinted his eyes and tried to read his next lines from the teleprompter behind the cameras.   
"Er...look frustrated?" he intoned uncertainly, then whimpered and cowered behind his massive feathered turban when Vince bellowed, "You're reading the facial expressions again!"   
"Eep! Sir yes sir!" Sultan Kurt squeaked meekly, before quickly clearing his throat and rushing woodenly through his next line, "Grr, Jasmine--er, Layla--er, Lita!" Throwing the double doors wide open, your Olympic hero and mine stalked out into the garden, yelling into space, "Lita! Lita! Lita--eek! Oh, my freakin' God! What in the world did they do to you?!" when the princess's loyal pet tiger interrupted him to shove a faceful of Matt's polka-dotted boxers into his nose. The crappily painted face of Hunter Hearst Helmsley glared back at him, shoved into what appeared to be a reject from the set of _Cats, _complete with painted whiskers and some glittery eyeshadow courtesy of the head honcho of Wardrobe & Makeup, Rico, as he batted a hairy paw at Sultan Kurt and grumbled, "What do you think-uh they did to me-uh, you Olympic bald eagle-uh? Oops, forgot, I'm not cutting a half-hour promo on _Raw_ here. Ahem, hold on, let me switch back to normal. Ahem! They conned me into playing Rajah when Steph claimed she had an extremely special and macho role, just for me!"   
"Hunter! You're a tiger, you're not supposed to be talking!" Stephanie's voice whined screechingly from off-camera, and Hunter cringed before gruffly obeying in an uninspired monotone, "Fine! Roar roar!" Sultan Kurt resumed his role, reaching over and trying to yank Prince Matt's boxers away from Hunter, when an idea suddenly occurred to him and he asked tentatively, "Hey, Hunter...you don't happen to have any false teeth, do you? I mean, I won't accidentally pull out some dentures along with these undershorts, will I?" Hunter roared for real this time, as he snapped in outrage, "What?! Dentures?! Which member of the Evolution do you think I am, Ric Flair or the World Heavyweight Champion?!"   
"He-ey..." Flair's voice drifted in faintly from the Wardrobe & Makeup department where he was busy assembling a lovely gold lamé suit--for Rico--while Sultan Kurt eeped helplessly and asked, "So...is that a yes or a no on the false teeth? Hey, if it's a yes, are they made of wood, like George Washington's...?"   
"Of course it's a no on the false teeth, you lowly, un-evolved simpleton!" Hunter roared in a fury. "Why, if I weren't stuffed into this ridiculous Tigger suit, I'd be shoving my boots right up your a--" 

"Excuse me!" an annoyed female voice cut in, as the cameras panned over to a shot of Lita, stuffed into a jade-green harem outfit that clashed badly with her dark red hair. The femme fatale stopped tapping her feet against the ground and lifted an eyebrow, as she demanded crossly, "Are we ever going to get to my scene or not?"   
"Er, sure," Sultan Kurt mumbled nervously, not wanting to cross the high-flying redhead as he wrenched Prince Matt's boxers from Hunter while mumbling, "Confound it, Hunter...so this is why the prince left in a huff--you gave him a wedgie!" Lita sighed, before obediently fluttering her eyelashes and cooing, "Oh, um, Father, Hunter was just playing...weren't you, Hunty-wunty?" Hunter obediently came toward her, wrinkling his nose disdainfully at the nickname she'd attached.   
"But Lita, you can't keep on rejecting every suitor I try to force down your throat," Sultan Kurt was babbling in dismay. "You know that the law states you have to be married--"   
"To a prince, yeah, I know," Lita finished for him, rolling her eyes as she got up and walked over to the dove cage.   
"By your next birthday," Sultan Kurt added, then brightened up and asked, "Oh, how old will you be turning?"   
"Uh..." Lita's eyes darted to and fro, as she tried to remember how old Jasmine was supposed to be in the original _Aladdin. _"I don't know...sixteen? That seems to be a trend with Disney princesses."   
"Sixteen!" Sultan Kurt nearly fell flat on his face from shock. "Jeez Louise, you're gonna be the oldest-looking sixteen-year-old I've ever seen--Ouch!" The Olympian failed to dodge the dove cage that an incensed Lita sent hurling at his face, clutching painfully at his now swollen nose and nagging feebly, "It is an outrage that you dare hit your own father..."   
"Oldest-looking sixteen-year-old, huh?!" Lita seethed furiously, looking like she wanted to pick up the wary-looking Hunter and throw him at her "father" next. "I'll show you about the old thing--uh, I mean, the law is wrong, Father."   
"Ouchy. Ow, my nose. Ow, my eye. Ow, my teeth...great, now _I'll _need dentures, like Hunter," Sultan Kurt was lamenting as a couple of random gofers helped him to his feet.   
"For the last time, I don't have any dentures!" Hunter spoke up irritably, then gave the obliging, "Roar roar," at a look from Stephanie.   
"Fine, so you don't have any dentures...and you only have three days," Sultan Kurt mumbled.   
"Huh?" Both Lita and Hunter turned to look at him, before Lita suddenly remembered the original script and prattled off, "Yeah, well the law's a load of BS, um, Father, and you can't force me to marry anyone I don't want to--this _is_ America, you know, the land of freedom...oh, no, wait, it isn't. Never mind...Anyway, I'm marrying for love, and that's final!"   
"But it's not just the law, Lita," Sultan Kurt pleaded pathetically. "I'm not that young any more, I can drop dead any day now, and I want you to be taken care of once I'm gone--what?! I'm dying?! I can't die! I'm an Olympian, gosh darn it! Wah!" 

Off-camera, Vince and Stephanie rolled their eyes exasperatedly, before the latter screeched in her trademark ear-splitting siren, "Stand-in!" Stone Cold Steve Austin reached in and yanked the still blubbering Kurt offstage, quickly taking his place and donning a massive turban while rushing through his lines, "If you admit you're a princess, Lita, give me a hell yeah!" As Sultan Austin waved around a six pack of Steveweisers and Stephanie tried to hush down the sniveling and sulking Kurt, Lita tried to explain, "But I've never done a thing on my own--"   
"WHAT?" Sultan Austin hollered rudely, causing Lita to roll her eyes and seethe, "I've never had any real friends--"   
"WHAT?"   
"Except for Hunter--ooh, that's real pathetic--"   
"WHAT?"   
"I've, uh, never been outside the palace walls--"   
"WHAT?"   
Lita's left eyebrow began to twitch dangerously, before she hauled off and socked her "father" right in the stomach, grumbling, "Will you shut up and stop repeating that?"   
"WHAT?" came the inevitable reply, followed by a painful explanation of, "No, seriously, WHAT were you saying--I ain't gonna be young forever, you know, I can't hear you!" Lita rolled her eyes.   
"Hey, you might need some hearing aids there, Steve--oh, yeah, and maybe I don't want to be a princess anymore," she grumbled.   
"WHAT?"   
"DUDE, NEVER MIND!" came the frustrated holler, causing an off-camera RVD to perk up and grin and Kurt to squeak like a frightened Olympic mouse and oh-so-bravely duck and hide behind Stephanie's skirt. Lita, meanwhile, looked around for her dove cage in order to set the cute little birdies free, but finding the cage completely smashed from when she'd hurled it at Kurt for calling her old and the cute little birdies scattered and hiding terrified from her, she shrugged and stomped off in an attempt to look huffy.   
"WHAT?" Sultan Austin blabbed cluelessly, before Vince finally got fed up with his mindless intoning of the particular catchphrase, and shoved the still sniffling Kurt back to resume his role as the sultan. 

Sultan Kurt returned to his chambers, grumbling to himself, "I don't know where she got it from...her mother wasn't nearly so violent." He started vigorously polishing his gold medals again, before an idea suddenly occurred to him just as a dark, ominous shadow started to descend over him, and he wondered, "Just who _was_ her mother, anyway?"   
"Erm...Sable," came the prompt reply after a hesitation, causing both Sultan Kurt to nearly have a heart attack and the shadow to abruptly stop descending.   
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" two frightened, shrill cries echoed heart-wrenchingly across the set, followed closely by the confused voice of Chris Jericho piping up, "Wait, _who_ did they say was the mom...Oh, AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Somewhere from the garden, Lita's voice could be faintly heard echoing Jericho's sentiments, while a bunch of gofers rushed over to Sultan Kurt and O'Haire and tried their best to revive them. 

"Oh, O'Haire--isn't that kind of redundant?--whoa, big word--I'm in desperate need of your, uh, _wisdom," _Sultan Kurt bawled shrilly after he'd finally recovered. O'Haire stroked his goatee evilly, before sweeping down in an exaggerated bow and drawling, "My life is to serve you, my bumbling bald-headed lord." Kurt frowned at his description, but chose to overlook that as he startled to complain, "I can't believe the writers made Sable my late wife--thank God that's _late_ wife--I mean, you know how terrified I am of her, what makes them think I'd be stupid enough to actually try and marry her...and, oh, yeah, Lita hit me today for mentioning the suitor business! I am at my wit's end--whatever that means." Jericho, after some pushing and prodding, finally opened his beak and obediently squawked in his parrot voice, "Awk! Wit's end!" Sultan Kurt laughed and clapped his hands in delight, requesting, "Ooh, ooh, can you say, "Big Show has smelly undershorts?" as he stuffed a week-old Saltine cracker into Jericho's mouth. O'Haire laughed obligingly, sucking up, "Your Majesty certainly has a way with egotistical, loudmouthed dumb animals." Jericho nearly spat out the cracker at this remark, whipping around and glaring at his "master" even as the latter smirked and drawled languidly, "Now, perhaps I may be of some help to this little problem of yours."   
"You'd better, or else I'll force you to watch twenty hours nonstop of A-Train matches in all his hairy-backed glory--I can do that, you know, I'm the sultan," Sultan Kurt threatened, causing O'Haire to shudder and nearly dump Jericho off his shoulder and face-first onto the floor with that particular movement.   
"Er...I will--but I'm going to need the use of the, um, _mystical_ gold medals," he revealed, causing Sultan Kurt's hands to fly protectively over his precious medals.   
"My medals? But I won them with a broken freakin' neck..." he whined, pouting. O'Haire shrugged, whistling tunelessly while reminding him in a meaningful voice as he casually examined his staff with its devil's head, "It is necessary to find the shrew--uh, I mean, the _princess_--a suitor, after all." Turning his staff toward Sultan Kurt, he nearly shoved its horned devil's head right into the other man's nose, while the room darkened dramatically and the devil's head's eyes began to glow.   
"Don't worry. Everything will be fine," O'Haire droned in a slow, hypnotic voice. Sultan Kurt began to get a goofy, empty look in his eyes, as he echoed dumbly, "Everything...will be...fine..."   
"And I'm not telling you anything you don't already know..." O'Haire cleverly snuck in his catchphrase, then cringed as Stephanie caught him and hollered bossily, "Stop ad-libbing!"   
"Fine, quit yelling at me already...Ahem, the medals, Your Majesty?" O'Haire nagged, motioning down to the several oversized gold coins dangling around Sultan Kurt's neck... 

...When at that moment, the dim chambers suddenly lit up with swishing neon lights, and a silver disco ball lowered itself from the middle of the ceiling while Village People started blaring over the speakers.   
"Hey! Hey! Hey, hey, hey!/Macho, macho man (macho man)/I've got to be, a macho man..." Sultan Kurt immediately snapped back to reality, as he huffed and snapped, "Are you crazy?! I won these medals with a broken freakin' neck! I'm not giving them up to anybody...Ooh, those cowboys and Indian people! I used to love grooving to "YMCA!" As Sultan Kurt started doing those weird YMCA gestures, O'Haire glanced around crossly, mouthing the words _What the hell is going on here?,_ while perched on his shoulders Jericho was whining that disco wasn't even real music, and they should replace it immediately with some good old Fozzy, 'cuzz Fozzy wuzz good music, it wuzz fozzy-wozzy music, it really wuzz. As the technicians struggled to fix the set and Stephanie practically cracked a whip over them in an effort to get them to hurry up, Vince's distinct voice could be heard bellowing that this was the last time he'd ever time-share a studio with Bischoff's project for a _Saturday Night Fever_ knock-off flick. 

When the disco ball was yanked down and the neon lights were put away, O'Haire and Sultan Kurt resumed their scene, as the latter finally gave in, "Here, all right, take them already--they're fake, anyway, got 'em at the nearby K-Mart; I mean, really, do I _look_ stupid enough to actually bring my real gold medals to work?" O'Haire and Jericho both averted their eyes, as Sultan Kurt huffed and grumbled, "Fine, don't answer that...now get out of here so I can enjoy my daily milk and cookies hour." O'Haire and Jericho shrugged, before obediently backing away and out of the room as Nidia came tripping into the chambers, lugging a tray of burnt gingersnaps and a tall glass of goat's milk, fresh from the farm. 

* * *

Cue to nighttime, where Lita, wearing a brown cloak over her princess costume, was skulking around the palace gardens, while the _Mission Impossible_ theme played from a little tape recorder somewhere in the background. Lita reached the wall and started to climb, but accidentally stepped on Hunter's incredibly big nose during the process, waking him from his sleep and unwittingly saving him from missing his cue. Hunter started up, looking like he wanted to bite her head off, but then remembered his role and gave a pathetic, "Roar roar." Lita glared at him, shushing, "Quit sniffling, you overgrown nose in a _Cats_ costume, you're starting to sound like Sultan Kurt." Hunter scowled, retorting with an insolent snicker, "Hey, at least _I'm_ not the oldest-looking sixteen-year-old in the world--yeowch!" 

Lita stepped back to admire her handiwork, while Hunter squeaked out his protests at being low-blowed like that, before meekly obliging, "Erm, roar roar." Lita tossed back her hair, threatening, "And there's plenty more where _that_ came from, if you even think of blabbing!" before hopping over the wall and disappearing from view. 

* * *

*Coming up next: The marketplace scene, Spanky tries to steal an apple (bad monkey!), some random jerk nearly cuts Lita's hand off, plus Ye Mighty Green One--a.k.a. Shane--falls in love. Altogether now: Awwwww...* 


	5. Scene Four: Shaney In Love

On the dusty streets of AhWWEbah, Shane and Spanky were trying to clamber on top of a fruit stand early morning to try and snag some breakfast. Only problem was, they were a bit too heavy, so that the cloth top started sagging and threatening to break, as underneath Billy Kidman, dressed up as the vendor, sighed and grumbled to himself, "I can't believe how dumb my character has to be in this lousy B-movie so as to not even notice the two unsightly lumps directly above my head!" Back on top, Shane gingerly tested his weight, then when the cloth held together--at least for the moment--he turned to his faithful sidekick and started to babble, "Holy...uh, what kind of word should I use here?" The _Jeopardy_ theme started playing, as Shane sat meditation-style on top of the fruit stand and tried to think of a word, while Spanky idly picked his nose and underneath Kidman just shook his head. Finally, Shane gave up and settled for merely ordering, "Aw, just go get us one of those melons, Citizen Spanky." Spanky grinned, before turning around and tying his tail to a pole and beginning to lower himself toward the melons. On the ground, Kidman was holding one of the green fruits (no, not the big one above his head) to a passer-by and pitching with about as much enthusiasm as if he were repeating a Lance Storm promo, "Try Billy Kidman's all-natural melons--the biggest, roundest, juiciest melons you'll ever see! Oh, Christ--uh, I mean, Allah--did I just say that?" Just as Kidman finished lamenting over his crappy role, Spanky dipped down and snatched two of his big round melons, singing out gleefully, "I've got big balls/I've got big balls/And they're such big balls--"   
"Holy perversion, Citizen Spanky!" Shane popped down to chastise. "I am disappointed in you!" Spanky pouted, grumbling, "Blah blah blah, you're always ruining my fun," and flicking his tail, which happened to smack right against Kidman's lips.   
"Hey!" the dark-haired cruiserweight snapped crossly. "Get your filthy, hairy, serpentine thing away from my mouth!" Shane nearly fell down in dismay.   
"Holy crap! More sexual innuendo!" he groaned reproachfully, as Spanky zinged back up, a heavy melon tucked under each arm.   
"Here you go, breakfast! Yum...uh, I mean, I'm still a monkey, right? Squeak squeak, chirp chirp, blah blah, let's dig in," the little blonde cruiserweight sang out cheerfully, cracking his melon against his knee and beginning to eat without the slightest trace of etiquette. Shane glared at him in distaste, grumbling, "Holy contamination--I don't think I want to dig into anything that's been stuck underneath your foul underarms, Citizen Spanky!" In response, Spanky blew him a raspberry, and a couple of melon seeds spilled out and bonked Shane on the tip of his superheroic nose.   
"Holy grossness!" our green-haired hero whined. 

Below them, a cloaked Lita was wandering around the open-air market, window-shopping and wondering which shawls could be cut up into the best thongs.   
"Try our TT Enhancement Elixir," Trish Stratus was announcing from her stand, while Torrie Wilson behind her struggled to unload the latest shipment of their elixir. Lita wandered over to their little booth, just as Trish finished pitching, "...and, not only is it guaranteed to augment them at least as big as mine and Torrie's, but they'll also make them rounder and smoother as well." Lita laughed, shaking her head to toss back her long red hair and snickering, "So, this is what you guys are doing for a living now." Trish forced a smile on her face, saying tightly, "Yes, well, if I'd only gotten the part of Jasmine...Anyway, would you like to try our elixir out? You look like you could need it." Lita glanced down at the front of her cloak.   
"Er, right...I think mine are big enough, thank you very much," she replied with a phony smile. Trish leaned forward, holding out a magnifying glass to examine closely while announcing, "Hmm, I don't know--they're big right now as they are, but tend to crinkle and narrow when your facial features shift, as in a smile or a frown (whoa, don't I sound scientific?)." Lita frowned in confusion.   
"Huh?" she echoed in a small voice. "They shrink when I smile? What the hell are you talking about, blondie?" Trish leaned back, the picture of innocence as she whistled, "Why, your eyes, of course! Now, if you would only put two drops of our TT--that stands for Trish and Torrie's--Enhancement Elixir in them every night before you go to bed, they're guaranteed to get larger and stay that way!"   
"Oh-kay," Lita discreetly backed away from the two blondes' booth, hurriedly tripping her way down the street and nearly getting jumped by the vendor behind the next stand.   
"Caskets!" Undertaker bellowed gruffly. "Caskets, funeral pyres, do-it-yourself embalming kits!"   
"Eh, how lovely, but no thanks," Lita rolled her eyes, adjusting the hood of her cloak and beginning to walk away.   
"Hey! Are you disrespecting me there, son?" Taker barked after her. "Because I demand your respect! I am the big dog, and this is my yard, and when you disrespect me, you're shitting all over my yard, is that clear? Respect me! R-E-S-P-E-C-T!"   
"I wasn't dissing you," Lita quickly assured him, before the older man could show off his Aretha Franklin impression. "In fact, to show how much I respect you, I'll, er, send over the next person I know that dies, all right? Kay, bye!" And she quickly ran away as fast as she could, failing to look where she was going in her hurry and nearly bowling over Molly Holly hanging around a booth near the one Shane and Spanky were sitting on.   
"Aw, you must be hungry," Lita cooed to the shorter woman, causing her to frown and reply, "Actually, not really, but--" Lita reached over and stole an entire honey-glazed ham from the stand, shoving it into Molly's face.   
"Here you go," she said, smiling sweetly. 

Back on top of their little canvas roof, Shane was still watching in disgust as Spanky stuffed his face, when he conveniently happened to glance over in Lita's direction. A dopey look came over his features, and he sighed dreamily, "Wow." From behind him, Shawn Michaels in a white Cupid diaper and feathered wings (hey, he _is_ the _Heart_break Kid, you know!) was lowered on cables, bow and quiver on his back. Shawn fidgeted around in embarrassment, but finally notched an arrow, shooting it straight into Shane's butt to symbolize that he'd fallen in love.   
"Ow! Holy agony--my superheroic behind!" Shane hollered, hands flying toward his sore area and yanking at the arrow stuck there. Spanky finally stopped slurping up melon, glancing over at his buddy and asking, "Uh, you okay?" Shane coughed and cleared his throat, trying to look as dignified as possible even as his face turned beet red from the embarrassment of having had an arrow stuck in his butt.   
"Of course I am!" he snapped hotly. His eyes wandered back to the object of his affections down on the street, and a spaced-off, silly smile returned to his face as he sighed, "Can't you see this superhero's in love?"   
"Uh..." Spanky's eyes followed Shane's lovestruck gaze, settling on the figure who'd stolen his little superheroic heart and then widening in surprise. "But...but that's _Molly!"_   
"Hmm..." Shane sighed dreamily, his dopey smile widening.   
"Uh, I'm not all that familiar with the whole script and everything, but even _I_ know that you're kind of supposed to fall for the _princess?" _Spanky reminded him, his voice rising an octave with each word until it became a nasal little squeak. Shane turned around to glare at him, and Spanky sighed and grumbled, "But then again, what do I know? I'm a just monkey. Chirp chirp." And he returned to his melon. 

Below, Lita had plopped down the ham in Molly's lap and shooed her off, saying dramatically while raising a fist to emphasize her solemn oath, "Now run along, because as God is my witness, as God is my witness, you're never going to be hungry again!"   
"So long as it'll take me away from you," Molly muttered to herself, starting to scurry off, despite Shane's loud protests and groans of heartbreak only a few feet above her. Lita started to leave as well, having been attracted by the King's puppies booth (they're real puppies, as in the ones that bark and lick your face!), when suddenly the vendor from whom she'd taken the ham appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her wrist.   
"You know you have to pay for that, now holla if you hear me, my hot freak!" Scott Steiner foamed. Lita leaned back, mystified, and uttered that strange new word as if she'd never heard it before in her life.   
"Holla? Is that your pitiful attempt at Spanish, compadre?" she started to smirk, then suddenly remembered her original line and mumbled, "Oh, yeah, and pay? What's that?" Steiner looked enraged.   
"No one steals from Freakzilla, Big Poppa Pump, the Big Bad Booty Daddy," he roared. Lita lost track somewhere along his long string of nicknames, and started to wander, off, when Steiner reached over and grabbed her again, pinning her down and saying, "Now you will have to be punished!" He reached over to his awful sharp-looking broadsword while restraining Lita's wrist against the side of his stand...and then passed it and instead pressed the Play button on the stereo next to it. "Just A Gigolo" started blaring over the speakers, and Steiner started bopping and grinding, his massive mounds of steroid-pumped "muscles" wriggling along with him.   
"I'm just a gigolo/And everywhere I go..." he sang along, ear-gratingly off-key, as he did his little striptease, much to Lita's horror.   
"Wah! Make him stop! Cut my hand off instead! Do something! Just don't make me watch Steiner strip! This is cruel and unusual punishment!" she wailed in dismay. 

On top of Kidman's stand, Spanky prodded Shane and suggested, "Uh, you might want to swoop in and save her, you know?" Shane sighed, weeping melodramatically, "How can I, when my heart has broken into pieces with the departure of the beautiful and virtuous--Holy indecent exposure! That _is_ obscene! I really do have to save her!" And he whooshed down onto the street, just in time before Steiner was about to take his pants off and Lita was about to have a stroke.   
"Holy obscenity, Citizen," Shane intervened, one hand cautiously hovering in front of his eyes as he scrambled over to the duo with Spanky at his heels. "Excuse me while I sound rude, but what the _hell_ do you think you're doing here...BIATCH?!" Steiner leaned back, releasing his grasp on Lita and wriggling back into his shirt as he started to explain, "She stole a whole ham from my booth; I had to punish her for it." Shane nodded wisely, pretending to take notes on a little Green Lantern pad as he listened along.   
"Hmm, well, to that I have only one thing to say," he intoned seriously after Steiner was finished explaining. The larger man gave him a suspicious look, and Shane whipped his arm to point at a spot behind Steiner's back while yelling, "Hey, look over there!" Steiner turned around, squinting his eyes and surveying the booths behind him, while Shane took the time to grab a near-blind Lita and run off with her, Spanky hopping after them and clutching his tail to his chest to prevent tripping over it.   
"Huh, where? I don't see anything," Steiner mumbled, then turned and saw three telltale little dust trails where Shane, Lita, and Spanky had once stood. "Hey! Come back here, my freaks! Don't you guys want to see Mr. Pee Wee, the Little Poppa Pump?" 

* * *

We cue over to a rickety old door that has a poster taped to it reading "O'Haire's Evil Secret Lab Hideout" in bold, red letters. As the door ominously creaks open, we see Jericho running around on a bizarre-looking contraption made of giant wooden gears that would have fit right in with a mad scientist movie. As an evil-looking storm began brewing at the top of the machine, Jericho running below started to huff and puff, "Why am _I_ the one who's running? I don't need to lose weight, and with no due respect, _you're_ the one who weighs more, Your Mighty Rottenness!"   
"And you're the one in the parrot suit, so suck it up and keep running," O'Haire snapped, taking Sultan Kurt's precious gold medals and sticking them on the contraption. Jericho whined some more but obediently sped up, as above the storm started crackling and sizzling with the arrival of the medals, before shooting a lightning bolt right into Jericho's tail. O'Haire narrowed his eyes and critically examined the picture that had now appeared on an hourglass attached to the contraption, while in the background Jericho ran around, frantically trying to put out the fire on his butt.   
"Ah, I see, so_ that's_ my diamond in the sky--er, in the rough--who can enter the Cave of Wonders," he murmured throatily to himself, intently observing a picture of Shane attempting to revive Lita by giving her superheroic mouth-to-mouth.   
"Ah! Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah!" Jericho wailed, still running around and with smoke beginning to float up from his burning tail, as on O'Haire's magic hourglass, Lita suddenly recovered from the trauma of seeing Steiner pulling a Marky Mark and slapped the taste right out of Shane's mouth for sexual harassment.   
"Holy ingratitude!" the superhero's voice whined in a tiny, squeaky voice from the hourglass. "I resuscitate you and you _slap_ me to show your thanks? Wassupwitdat?!" As Lita realized what had actually happened and sheepishly began to apologize, O'Haire thoughtfully stroked his goatee and growled, "Hmm...let's have the babooons--er, guards--extend an invitation to our little Diamond Cutter--er, diamond in the rough--shall we?"   
"Ah! My perfect, gorgeous ass! Put it out! Put it out!" Jericho wailed, still running around with his scorching tail and finally diving into his pool of hairspray to try and put the fire out. 

**_BOOM!!!_**   
Jericho and O'Haire emerged from the explosion, their faces blackened with soot and their fried hair sticking straight up as though they'd been electrocuted.   
"Jericho, my useless, worthless sidekick," O'Haire growled in a dangerously low voice, _"never_ again try to put out fires in a pool of highly flammable chemical, unless you want that beak of yours shoved straight up where the sun don't shine--and this time, I _am_ telling you something you _don't _already know!" 

* * *

Over on the other side of AhWWEbah, Lita was pressing a pack of ice to Shane's cheek to try and ease the swelling from her slap.   
"Er, sorry about that," the redhead mumbled sheepishly, dabbing at his face with the ice while Shane sniffled but tried to put on a brave face.   
"Eh, no pwobed," he mumbled thickly, trying to work out the word "problem" but unable to pronounce it too well with his swollen cheek. Lita cast her look guiltily onto the ground, trying to find some other topic of conversation other than her slapping him.   
"So, uh, I wanted to thank you for saving me back there," she finally stammered awkwardly. "You know, before I turned into a permanent mental vegetable from the trauma."   
"Bwuh-dah-duff-blah-gah," Shane mumbled, still unable to talk from the swelling. Lita cringed, knowing she was the cause of this, and did her best to begin a more one-sided conversation as she started to rapidly babble while glancing at her ratty surroundings, "So, this is where you live, huh?" Her gaze swept over the dusty floors and walls, the meager and very broken furniture, the raggedy curtains, the various boxes of Chinese and pizza takeout scattered everywhere, the insanely huge collection of comic books stuffed in every corner, the lifesize cardboard cutout of Linda Carter as Wonder Woman, and several bottles of monkey medicine with a pack of disposable needles lying in a corner underneath a film of cobwebs--a total pigsty. In other words, the typical bachelor's pad.   
"It's, uh, very nice," she lied, trying to sound as polite as possible. By some miracle, Shane had suddenly regained his speech, and as his swelling started to go down, he poked his chest out proudly and bragged, "It is, isn't it? And it's all ours--him and me live here together."   
"Him?" Lita wondered if he'd gotten some sort of superhero's-alter-ego complex from reading too many comics. Shane, fortunately, pointed to Spanky, and said, "Let me introduce you. This is Spank the Monkey, but we all call him Spanky for short."   
"How charming," Lita muttered under her breath. Shane crossed over to Spanky and took the second melon that he was about to dig into, posing with it as though preparing to throw a football and them hurling it at Lita and nearly taking her nose out with it.   
"Oops, sorry," he apologized, while Spanky's chin started quivering and he looked as though he were about to cry at the loss of his melon.   
"It could have been worse," Lita mumbled, catching the melon and tucking it into her lap. "I could have been married right now--that's what my father's forcing me to do if I go back."   
"Holy injustice," Shane agreed. "I think that's just--Spanky!" Lita whipped around, looking confused that he should think her being forced to marry was just spanky and wondering whether he'd just tossed a sexual slur at her, when she realized that a certain little blonde monkey had been hanging by his tail and was trying to carefully lodge the melon from her lap. Spanky grinned sheepishly at being caught, opening his mouth to flash some Crest-worthy white teeth. 

"Here you are!"   
Lita leaned back in shock, dropping the melon to the floor and wondering, "Did that monkey just talk?" Spanky was actually looking down at all the scattered pieces of broken melon, his jaw wobbling and his eyes watering over at the thought of so much waste, while Lita and Shane finally realized that the one who'd spoken wasn't Spanky but rather, Nathan Jones.   
"C'mon, let's move for the kill, m' mates!" he bellowed. Shelton and Charlie followed reluctantly, scratching their heads while Charlie mumbled, "Yeah, we'll do that," while Shelton added under his breath, "So long as you don't call us your mates!" The two looked at each other, then shuddered at the particular thought of being Nathan's prison bitches, before dutifully obeying and running up the stairs after their head cheese.   
"Great, just great. My idiotic crybaby of a "father" must have sent these losers," Lita was griping, when she felt a tug on her arm. Shane was holding out his hand, Spanky ahead of him, and was asking melodramatically, "Do you trust me?" Then, without waiting for a response, he grabbed her arm and jumped... 

...All the three feet that it took for them to touch solid ground. As the trio straightened up and dusted themselves off, Lita turned to Shane and socked him accusingly in the arm, demanding, "You made such a big deal over jumping_ three lousy feet?!"_ While Shane scratched his hair sheepishly and puttered around for an answer, the three palace guards were peering over the edge of the building toward them.   
"C'mon, mateys, after them!" Nathan ordered. Charlie and Shelton held back, and Charlie whimpered, "But...but...but we're scared of heights! Wah!" As Nathan growled in frustration, below Shane was pulling on Lita's hand and declaring, "And away we go! Holy escapes!" And they _would_ have escaped, too, had Shane not run straight into a pole right then, bounced off backwards, and slammed into the building, shaking it and causing the three guards to topple off, Charlie and Shelton shrieking and clinging to each other all three feet of the way down. Nathan reached over and grabbed Shane by the collar, roughly hauling him in.   
"Gotcha!" the giant Aussie declared triumphantly.   
"No you don't," Lita seethed angrily, taking hold of Shane's arm and trying to wrench him out of Nathan's grasp.   
"Says who?" the behemoth sneered. Lita scowled, before angrily flipping back the hood of her cloak to reveal her tiara.   
"Says the princess of AhWWEbah (somehow that doesn't sound very effective)," she informed him smugly. The palace guards stopped laughing, while Spanky gasped, "The _princess?!"_ for both him and Shane, who was still out cold and in the dark about Lita being the princess.   
"Uh, we'd love to stay around and chat and let this little green worm go," Charlie explained nervously. "But these are Mr. O'Haire's orders, and he's kind of higher on the pecking order than you, unless you've got your, um, "father" backing you up."   
"Yeah, go whine to him," Shelton suggested so very helpfully. Lita's eyes narrowed.   
"Oh, I will," she seethed. 

* * *

*Coming up next: Lita gives O'Haire a piece of her mind, Spanky busts Shane out of the dungeon like the good little monkey sidekick that he is, plus O'Haire dons a _really_ crappy disguise to try and sucker Shane into going into the RVD-Cave of (Herbal! ~_^) Wonders to fetch his magic lamp.* 


	6. Scene Five: SpiderHaire, SpiderHaire, Do...

Cue over to O'Haire's Evil Secret Lab Hideout with its ratty sign proclaiming it as such, where O'Haire is absently exiting, examining his goatee in a handy mirror and smoothing down the ends that were still scorched black, thanks to Jericho's fire-and-hairspray explosion. Your favorite devil and mine was oh-so-sneakily trying to come out of the closet-like chamber, when a loud and very pissed off female voice snapped, "O'Haire! Come on out or I'll mace you out!" as Princess Lita angrily stormed in from the hallway. O'Haire's eyes bugged out, before he quickly used his foot to slam the door of his evil secret lab hideout shut, just as Jericho was pompously trying to exit sideways, and pinning the loudmouthed Big Bird between the door and the frame to conveniently squash a certain vital part of his anatomy.   
"My little general!" Jericho yelped in a high falsetto, but O'Haire pointedly ignored him as he tried to cover up his squeaking sidekick's form with his own larger one while flashing what he hoped was an angelic smile at the princess.   
"Oh, uh, Your Bitchiness--I mean, Your Majesty!" he improvised, speaking through his teeth while keeping them in a Crest-worthy mile-wide grin.   
"Awk! Your Goatee-Touting Badness, I'm kind of stuck here! Awk!" Jericho squawked shrilly in his falsetto voice, prompting his master to slam the door harder in an effort to squeeze him back inside, and (perhaps not quite) accidentally putting pressure on the parts that were causing Jericho so much torture.   
"Princess Lita, how may I service you--I mean, be of service to you?" O'Haire stammered, nervously fingering his goatee and trying to cover Jericho's loudly complaining form with his cloak. Lita, meanwhile, stalked up to him purposely, glaring and getting into his face while jabbing her finger into his chest for emphasis as she fumed, "Your bumbling three stooges just took the most adorable boy dressed in a superhero costume from the market--care to explain why?"   
"Of course, Princess Lolita--uh, I mean, Princess Lita, just Lita," O'Haire babbled, turning around to glare at Jericho, who was still whining on behalf of his little general. "You see, Princess, one of your father's numerous and important duties is to keep the peace here in AhWWEbah. That kid had to be arrested, he was a few cans short of a six-pack, if you know what I mean."   
"Huh? You mean he was an alcoholic?" Lita wanted to know, scrunching up her face in bewilderment. "That's stupid, arresting him for drinking--after all, he couldn't possibly have been a bigger beer buff than my stand-in father, Sultan Austin."   
"No, he wasn't an alcoholic," O'Haire snapped impatiently. "He was crazy, that's what! Running around with his little monkey hanging out by his belt, whooshing off buildings and pretending he has superpowers--he was a menace to society!"   
"And you just had him brutalized and arrested?!" Lita seethed angrily, her left eyebrow beginning to twitch dangerously.   
"Your Foulness, you're kind of ruining my chances of populating this land with little Jerichos, you know," Jericho butted in none too inconspicuously. O'Haire ignored him, going on, "Exactly. You, of all people, should know better, Princess Lo--Lita, just Lita. After all, this young man _did_ kidnap you from the palace."   
"Awk! Your Vileness, you've cut off all circulation to my--" Jericho started to hiss, when O'Haire, whose temple had begun throbbing at his parrot's constant nagging, finally got fed up and grabbed a conveniently handy steel loveseat to chairshot Jericho and his little general back inside the evil secret lab hideout.   
"Ahem." Lita tapped her foot impatiently. "If you're done with trying to keep your little friend in the closet, I can proceed to inform you that he didn't kidnap me at all--I ran away from this hell-hole you call a palace!" O'Haire feigned shock, as he tapped at his chin with his index finger and murmured, "That is such a shame, Princess Lita. I wish I'd known it sooner...before I'd ordered the Three Stooges--er, palace guards--to execute his sentence." Lita gave a suspicious frown.   
"What sentence?" she wanted to know, then gasped as if the idea had suddenly occurred to her, "You couldn't mean death...could you?" O'Haire gave a phony smile.   
"You could say that," he whistled innocently, then explained, "We strapped him down to a dungeon and had the two original man-beasts, Nicole Bass and Chyna, probe him for hernias." Lita looked like she didn't know whether she should scream or faint at the knowledge of so horrible a sentence.   
"You couldn't!" she cried. "The poor guy's probably been groped and pinched to death by now! To think I never even learned his name!"   
"And yet you went to his room? Wow, what a slut," Jericho wisecracked from behind the doors, his voice slowly returning to normal as Lita glared over in the general direction where the words came from and O'Haire guiltily covered the doors with his cloak and offered a nervous smile.   
"I am very sorry, Princess Lita," O'Haire offered in a falsely sympathetic voice, then pitched in his one and only catchphrase, "And just remember, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Lita gave him a dry look.   
"Thanks, that's real comforting," she said sarcastically, starting to storm off, presumably to do her big grief-stricken crying scene. Turning around in mid-step, she called back cheekily, "Oh, and by the way, O'Haire, congrats on coming out of the closet earlier." Now it was O'Haire's turn to give her a dry look, as he reminded her sourly, "Aren't you supposed to be all heartbroken and crap?" Lita shrugged, before sauntering off without giving a response. 

Five minutes after Lita had walked away, Jericho finally managed to pop out from behind the closet-like doors of O'Haire's Evil Secret Lab Hideout.   
"I did it!" he cheered. "I finally came out of the closet!" O'Haire's eyes glinted devilishly, as he turned around and asked his pet sidekick, "Have you now? Then wouldn't that make your chances of "populating this land with little Jerichos" pretty much nil?" Jericho shot him a cross look.   
"Awk! Shut up, Your Rottenness," he snapped sulkily. 

* * *

It is now late night, as we find Lita crying by herself at the edge of the fancy palace fountain.   
"Get those onions away from my eyes," the fiery redhead snapped at one of the crewmen who'd been assigned the unfortunate task of making her cry convincingly. "I'm not _that_ heartbroken over the guy's death! What are you trying to do here, get me all waterlogged?" 

At that moment, Hunter swaggered over in an effort to "comfort" the grief-stricken princess, starting to rub up against her breasts before she quickly smacked him away.   
"It's all my fault, Nose--urk, Hunter," Lita sobbed, with about as much emotion as Lance Storm cutting a promo. "I never even knew his name! Wah!"   
"What a slut," Hunter made the mistake of repeating Jericho's earlier jibe. 

**_ *SLAP*_**

Hunter slunk off, gingerly dabbing at a massive red welt on his cheek with a damp cloth and grumbling, "Damn, talk about pulling off a Stephanie." From somewhere offscreen, Stephanie's voice screeched, "Hunter! Was that an insult?!" 

**_*SLAP*_**

* * *

The cameras now pan to a dungeon converted into a crappy infirmary, with even crappier lighting and several stop-light-red signs that read "WARNING: QUARANTINE" stuck everywhere. Shane is seen lying flat on his back on one of the Salvation Army-donated gray mattresses, groaning and wincing from all the earlier hernia-checking torture, when suddenly a bunch of rats scurry by, prompting everybody's favorite green-haired superhero to shriek like a little girl and jump up to seek safety atop one of the ceiling lights.   
"AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEE! RATS!" Shane squealed helplessly, swinging back and forth from the lights, which were threatening to spill him back onto his mattress any given second. "Holy filthiness! Someone call the Terminator--I mean, the exterminator (who dresses up like the Terminator)!" At this, Test, decked out in a cool black leather jacket and with a water gun slung menacingly over his shoulder, placed a pair of dark shades over his eyes and rumbled with a very bad Austrian accent, "Ah'll be back--after lunch break, that is." 

Meanwhile, up above, Spanky was trying to squeeze in between the narrow bars of a tiny window, huffing and puffing with the effort while silently wondering whether he ought to take Shane's advice and lose some weight.   
"AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEE!" Shane's sudden cry caused Spanky's hair to fly up from the force of the holler, while he clutched desperately at the window bars to avoid falling down into the deadly, disgusting, swarming sea of two scrawny little rats scampering by.   
"Rats!" the little blonde monkey wailed, five seconds after Shane had already proclaimed their existence like a police siren, then when he'd calmed down and remembered his lines, took off his turban hat and waved it around while singing out, "Yoo-hoo, Shane!" Frowning and not listening as Shane called back something in reply, Spanky wondered to himself, "Aw, jeez, did that just sound like a gay pick-up line or what?"   
"Citizen Spanky, you certainly took your time to get here and rescue me like a dependable sidekick should! Wassupwitdat?!" Shane demanded indignantly from his infirmary dungeon, as Spanky hopped down and offered his tail to help Shane up, while retorting pointedly, "Yeah, well, _you_ were the one who _had_ to play hero and rescue that redheaded lady who just happens to be the princess!" Shane drew himself to his full height, towering a couple of inches over Spanky and huffing insultedly, "Holy insubordination, Citizen Spanky--what are you saying, that I'm a moron?" Spanky rolled his eyes.   
"No duh," he muttered sarcasticallyunder his breath. 

As the two were about to happily argue off into the sunset, a deep, gravelly male voice spoke up in a low growl, "You're only a moron if whoosh around dressed in a cape and with your underwear on the outside out, like some poor man's Superman of wrestling."   
"That's not in the script!" Vince McMahon's voice bellowed offscreen, as onscreen Shane and Spanky dutifully turned around and pretended to look surprised at hearing the first voice. Its owner, after being threatened to get fired by McMahon for the umpteenth time, sighed and emerged from the shadows where he'd been previously hiding, swaggering over to Shane and Spanky.   
"I am a lowly prisoner, like yourself, young man," he started to say...when he noticed with a growing feeling of disturbed wariness the sudden starry-eyed looks that had lit up Shane and Spanky's faces when they saw him.   
"Wai! It's Spider-man!" Shane squealed, his eyes lighting up like some six-year-old kid let loose in a candy shop. "Holy TRL moment!"   
"OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod!" Spanky hyperventilated, nearly hopping up and down in his excitement. "It _is_ Spider-man! Can you, like, hook me up with Black Cat, since you're not dating her anyways? She is so incredibly hot!" The two young cruiserweights steadily advanced on "Spider-man," who began warily backing away from them while stammering, "Er, there is this cave of wonderful treasures...if you'll just agree to be my guinea pigs and go in there to retrieve a magic lamp, I promise you'll attain enough gold to impress this little princess you're so stuck on...are you going or not?"   
"Yes, master, anything for Spider-man," Shane and Spanky replied automatically in brainwashed voices, worshipping "Spider-man" with idolizing eyes. "Spider-man" turned away from them and lifted his red mask a few inches from his chin to absently stroke his goatee, grumbling to himself, "This is just great--the original costume is supposed to be of a spider-like man, so what does McMahon's stingier-than-Scrooge producers come up with? A kid's Halloween costume of Spider-man that's seven sizes too small--this scene is going to be dangerously on the verge of becoming a gay porno if someone doesn't give me a towel to wrap around my waist!" At that moment, Jericho's head peeped out from inside the huge burlap sack "Spider-man" was gingerly trying to cover his, uh, little spider with, whining, "Could you hurry it up already, Your Mighty Spitefulness O'Haire, I'm suffocating in there, and your little friends keep poking me in the butt from the other side of the bag, which isn't exactly my idea of a fun way to spend time on a movie set, and another thing, my gorgeous hair is getting all messed up, and as for my even more gorgeous nails--"   
"Shut up, Jericrap," O'Haire hissed, although he did consciously stop trying to cover up the front side of his costume with Jericho's bag. Then, turning to the star-struck Shane and Spanky, who were practically throwing themselves at his feet to worship him, O'Haire quickly lowered his mask into place and announced, "All right, kids, who's ready for a great, fun field trip to the RVD-Cave of Wonders with Spider-man?" As Shane and Spanky squealed and jumped around in excitement, Jericho's muffled voice could be heard drawling sarcastically from inside his bag, "Oh, joy." O'Haire glared, before pointedly kneeing the bag in a certain area.   
"Yeowch! I mean, goody!" a high falsetto squeaked. 

* * *

A desert storm is blowing, sending clouds of whitish-gray sand everywhere as three lonesome figures, one of them touting a great big burlap bag, made their way across the arid wasteland. Spider-Haire walked at a steady pace, having finally convinced Shane and Spanky that he couldn't sling from cactus to cactus because his web-shooter had run out, and pointedly ignoring Jericho's outraged howls and whines as he dragged his parrot in the burlap bag over the gritty sand and harsh rocks. Shane and Spanky skipped along ahead of Spider-Haire, rolling a red carpet in front of him as they walked a long, _looooong_ time before finally arriving at the RVD-Cave of Wonders. 

"Cool, dude, it's Spider-man," RVD's voice spoke up amiably as the trio made their grand entrance, despite Stephanie's screeched orders that he sound menacing. "Hey, can I have your autograph? I'm selling memorabilia at my new comic book store, you know, and--"   
"We are gathered here today, to celebrate my guinea pigs' retrieval of the magic lamp," Spider-Haire cut him off before he could pull a Foley and insert a cheap plug. From behind the cave, RVD shrugged, before speaking into his microphone, "Cool, whatever dude. Just don't touch anything other than the lamp--there's something weird about two guys going around touching inside another guy and--"   
"All right, all right, we get the picture," Spider-Haire quickly cut him off, shooing Shane and Spanky inside with the typical villainous babbling of, "Remember, my lackeys, bring me back my lamp, and then I shall reward you with riches beyond your wildest imaginations! Mwahahahahahah!" Shane and Spanky exchanged looks, before the former shrugged and declared loyally, "Spider-man can do no wrong! I _will_ whoosh in and get this special toy of his!"   
"That's magic lamp, not special toy!" Spider-Haire hollered.   
"Whatever," Shane shrugged, then struck a pose and started to babble, "Stand back! There's a hurricane comin'--hey!" By then, Spanky had gotten tired of his ranting, and scampered swiftly inside the cave, dragging Shane by the ear with him.   
"That's right, you should both go in and fetch me my lamp," Spider-Haire announced grandly. "And remember, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know!" 

* * *

*Coming up next: Shane and Spanky meet the magic carpet, Christian (who proves to be just as loudmouthed as Jericho, unfortunately, despite being a flying rug and all!), get avalanched inside the RVD-Cave of Wonders, and conjure up the genie (whose identity will be revealed in the incredibly exciting upcoming installment)* 


End file.
